


the forecast, a car crash

by tryslora



Series: ...and that's what you missed on Glee Wolf [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Basketball Player Derek Hale, Beacon Hills High School, Bullying, Embarrassment, Gen, Locker Room, Minor Derek Hale/Paige, Past Stiles Stilinski/Ethan - Freeform, Singing in the Shower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 15:03:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15665622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: Stiles should be rushing through his shower to get out of the locker room before the football team comes in, but he can't resist singing in the shower. He's surprised when his solo becomes a duet, and when someone intervenes when the football team bullies him.Lyrics and title are from the song "Up Against the Wall" by Boys Like Girls (lyrics|video)





	the forecast, a car crash

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this fic for the prompt "Wall" at Fullmoon Ficlet, but didn't finish it in time. The idea was inspired by the music playing on my morning commute, and the phrase that popped into my head which has become the title for a new series. I have no plans for scheduled updates; I will write new stories for the series when they occur to me and I have time.

“Dude, we made up a gym class. We just walked around the track. You don’t need to shower.”

Stiles drags his clean clothes out of his locker, shoves his backpack back in before cycling the lock. “Speak for yourself, Scotty. You walked. I ran several laps before I realized that Kate wasn’t paying enough attention to care what we were doing, and Lydia didn’t care. No A in gym, ruining my perfect GPA, and no potential dates. I failed on all fronts today, and now I stink. I’m showering.”

In his defense, Kate Argent is the worst PhysEd teacher they’ve ever had. He might go to class more often if they still had Mr. Simmons. But no, Simmons retired, Argent arrived, and PhysEd now sucks more than ever. At least when they make up classes after school no one forces them to do team sports with the jocks that hate them.

Scott shoulders his backpack, takes a step away. “You’d better shower quickly. The football team was practicing, and they’ll be coming in soon. You don’t want to run into—”

Stiles throws both hands up in the air, cutting Scott off. “No. I don’t want to run into, and we will not mention his name. So fine. I’ll shower quickly. You’ll stand watch outside and tell me if the team’s coming in before people who will not be mentioned, or their teammates, can shove my face into the wall. Which will only be more awkward when I’m naked and wet.”

Sometimes things that seem like a good idea over the summer turn out to be horrible ideas once school starts up again. It’s funny how Stiles always manages to find those things and does them without realizing how bad it’s going to be. Past self really needs to think about future self more often.

“Right.” Scott looks dubious. “Make it fast, dude. It hasn’t been a good semester already and we’re only a couple weeks in.”

“I know.” Stiles strips quickly, grabs a towel from the pile waiting for the football team. “Believe me, buddy, I know. Get your ass out of here before the bully parade begins, okay?”

Stiles makes sure his locker is locked—he only made that mistake once back in freshman year—then quickly grabs one of the showers and pulls the curtain shut. He hangs his clothes out of the path of the water but still in view—another lesson learned two years ago—then ducks under the hot water.

He hums while he scrubs, ignoring the sound of another shower starting up several stalls away. It’s only one; the team hasn’t come in yet. He’ll notice when the football team arrives, even if Scott fails to sound the alert. Any time a critical mass of jocks is reached, they’re louder than the damned devil.

His humming shifts to singing, first under his breath, then louder because who the fuck is going to know it’s him, anyway?

“ _So breathe in now, and breathe it out_ ,” he sings. “ _The forecast. A car crash. It’s looking like another breakdown, rebound. This could be my last goodbye_.” He inhales, and when he hits the next line, another voice joins his.

“ _You cross your heart, I hope to die_.”

Stiles almost stutters, surprised to hear someone else singing. Someone else that knows this old pop punk song that his mother used to play. He inhales, jumps into the chorus, singing loudly along with his unseen companion. “ _And I can’t deny your eyes. You know I try to read between the lines. I saw a warning sign, and then you threw me up against the wall_.”

A banging door, but Stiles is too far into it to stop now, the chorus ringing out. “ _Who said that it’s better to have loved and lost? I wish that I had never loved at all_.”

He realizes that he finished the song solo, his voice alone as it echoes off the walls of the shower. The noise in the background is impossible to miss; Duke’s voice louder than everyone else, Ennis yelling over him.

Stiles twists the water off, stands in the shower breathing hard. He’s too late. He doesn’t want to go out there.

The curtain is yanked back as Ennis yells out, “Stilinski! Get your pasty ass out of the shower and give it up so the real men get their turn.”

Right. Because football players are gods at Beacon Hills.

Fuck that.

Stiles grabs the towel, wraps it around his waist. “Did you get a good eye full?” He gets his clothes before Ennis can make a grab for them, goes to push past him and ends up shoved against the wall.

“What makes you think I’d want your—”

“Ennis.”

A quiet voice, low and firm. Stiles can’t see who’s speaking just out of range, and he doesn’t recognize the voice. It’s not Duke, and thank God it’s not Ethan. He can see Ethan, though, standing next to his twin, Aiden, both of them watching the tableau.

Ennis digs his fingers into Stiles’s shoulder, his other arm across Stiles’s chest, just under his chin. “This doesn’t have anything to do with you,” he says.

“Looks like bullying to me.” That same quiet, even tone.

“What do you think, Ethan? Does this little geek deserve his special alone time in the shower?” Ennis grins sharply. “Maybe we should let him go back in. Maybe you want to join him.”

“Leave it, Ennis.” Ethan’s voice is low. Careful, like he knows he’s on thin ice if he supports Stiles. Ethan flinches back when Ennis just laughs.

“Ennis.” The unseen voice again. “Let him go. I know you think I can’t get to the principal and back in time, and you’re right. I’m not that fast. But I’ve got it all on video.”

Great. Just another bonus moment in the day, knowing that someone has Stiles being bullied preserved on video for eternity.

Ennis drops him, and Stiles stumbles forward, rocking back quickly when Ennis pushes him away. His head cracks against the wall, and he stands there, dazed, rubbing at his head. By the time his vision clears, he’s alone except for Scott standing by his locker.

“You were supposed to keep watch,” Stiles grumbles at him.

“The girls came in from practice. I think Lydia’s made friends with the pretty transfer student.” Scott sighs. “Which means she’s now as out of reach as Lydia.”

“She’s a Cheerio, Scott. She’s always been out of reach.” Stiles quickly towels off and drags on his underwear. It’s not much, but not being naked makes him far more confident any time he’s in a locker room. He dresses as quickly as he can after that.

“She said hi to me in Chemistry,” Scott points out. “And she said thank you when I loaned her a pen.”

Stiles tosses the towel in the hamper, then twists the lock on his locker open. “Scott, that was the first day of class, and she didn’t know you were a geek and therefore untouchable. She’s learned. They all learn. We have a social strata, and Cheerios are on the same level as jocks. We are not.”

“It could change,” Scott says.

Stiles doubts that, but Scott looks so hopeful that he doesn’t want to break him. Not today. Stiles has had enough of bad attitudes and he’s ready to get out of this place. He pats Scott on the chest as he walks by. “Sure, Scotty. It could change,” he says.

Stiles barely manages to get through the gym door before he’s grabbed. He yells as he’s spun around, pushed up against the wall in the shadowed space behind the door. A hand falls over his mouth.

“Shhh. I’m not trying to hurt you.”

And that’s the voice from the locker room. Stiles’s gaze narrows. His savior turned bully is one Derek Hale, captain of the basketball team. Another asshole jock. He licks Derek’s palm, grinning when Derek jerks his hand back.

“Didn’t you just give Ennis a lecture on bullying me?” Stiles snaps, trying to keep his voice low.

“I heard about what happened on the first day of the semester,” Derek says, and oh, so they’re going there, huh?

“Didn’t everyone?” Stiles asks. The door creaks, and Stiles hopes to hell that it’s Scott on the other side. “Hey, buddy, I didn’t disappear. Just over here, being shoved into yet another wall.”

Scott rounds the door, grabs it and pushes it closed. “Dude,” he says, drawing it out with disappointment.

Derek lets Stiles go. “Look. Ennis is an asshole, and he’s a bully, but he’ll back down if you bluff. Ethan’s just trying to fit in at a new school; he’ll do anything Duke says, and Duke said to dump your ass, so he did. Publicly, and loudly.”

“If you think I don’t know they’re bullies after two years—” Stiles stops. “Wait. Did you bluff Ennis? You don’t have video?”

“I thought about it, for evidence, but you were naked.” Derek shrugs one shoulder. “Figured he wouldn’t call the bluff, and he didn’t. Ennis isn’t the brightest bulb.”

“Oh.” Stiles feels like he can’t get his thoughts out of first gear. He’s revving the engine and nothing’s happening; he’s stuck. “Why?”

“Just give Duke a wide berth,” Derek says quietly. He turns at the sound of his name, and when Stiles looks, his cousin Paige is there, arms crossed, waiting.

Stiles lifts one hand, and Paige waves but doesn’t leave. “I’m not here for you,” she calls out. “I saw your piece of junk in the parking lot; I know you can get home on your own. This guy convinced me that maybe we should go out. Which is only going to work if he isn’t an asshole.”

Derek raises an eyebrow, and Stiles takes the cue. He gets it now. Derek’s nice to Stiles, then Stiles puts in a good word with his cousin. Of course.

“This is the nice kind of bullying, Paige. Saved my naked ass in the locker room, then saw fit to make sure I knew exactly who’s who in the asshole jock world.” Stiles taps Derek’s chest, and Derek takes a step backwards. “See. We’re all friends. Have fun on your date. Don’t do anything the Sheriff, your uncle, would disapprove of.”

He appreciates the way Derek’s gaze narrows, as if he hadn’t thought of that connection. Stiles smirks.

“Remember what I said,” Derek says before he walks off.

“What just happened?” Scott murmurs.

“Too many jocks, too many walls, and I think Derek Hale sings in the shower,” Stiles muses. He grips his backpack tightly, heads down the hall. “And I don’t know about you, but I just want to get out of here.”

“You’re giving me a ride, right?” Scott asks.

“Buddy, you’ve always got me on your side,” Stiles assures him. They’re at the bottom of the social ladder; they have to stick together. Especially when the jocks start acting strange.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr as [tryslora](http://tryslora.tumblr.com/).
> 
> If you like my fic, you would probably love my original work posted at [Welcome to PHU](http://welcometophu.tumblr.com) on tumblr.


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